


Roll to Me

by Miss_Tricksy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Tricksy/pseuds/Miss_Tricksy
Summary: Demon Dean reaches out to Reader, Dean tries to come to terms with his feelings.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester & You
Kudos: 18





	Roll to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr for @cleighwrites THANGSTgiving challenge. My song was Del Amitri's Roll to Me. If you look it up you'll go duh, I know this song. Also mild t/w for some not entirely consensual suggestive language.

Your phone screen lit up, showing a picture from some random day six or seven years before. Gorgeous car, gorgeous backdrop, gorgeous guy. You can’t help the smile in your voice, despite your grogginess, “Hey, Dean.”  
“Hey, sweetheart. Is that your sex voice I hear?”  
“Uh, that’s my you woke me up because it’s,” you glance at the clock on the beautiful wood-like nightstand your hotel room is outfitted with, “two thirty-seven. Thought old guys like you were in bed before the ten o’clock news.”  
You hear Dean’s throaty chuckle. “Not really my style, darling. Been spending some time howling at the moon, so to speak.”  
You grab at the low hanging fruit, “You guys hunting weres? Thought I might have saw something like that going down in the U.P.”  
More with the growly laughing. “Not exactly. Wanted to see if you want to meet up with me?”  
“Just wrapped up a situation with some witches near Little Rock.” You do a quick mental calculation. “I can be at the Bunker by tomorrow night. Tell Sam to wash my sheets with the good fabric softener.”  
“Not quite what I had in mind, babe.”  
Babe? You couldn’t help but wonder about that particular endearment.  
“Oh, o-kay….what did you have in mind, then?”  
You checked that the phone hadn’t dropped the call. Several seconds passed by before your heard Dean’s voice again. “You can’t even imagine what I want to do to you, Y/N/N. Been thinking about you for weeks now. Can’t get that silver dress you wore in Vegas out of my head.”  
You had to bite the inside of your cheek, to be sure you weren’t dreaming. Sam Winchester may have known about the HUGE crush you had on his brother. But the elder of the pair had never once hinted that he reciprocated. Before you could ask about the strange behavior, your phone buzzed. Funny enough Sam’s face flashed across your screen.  
“Hey, Dean, Sam’s calling. Aren’t you together?”  
“What the….you can ignore that sweetheart. Baby bro probably is just geeking out over some book at the bunker. Loser.”  
You were used to Dean giving Sam a hard time in person, but usually he was kind of a fan girl when he talked about Sam.  
“Hey, sweetheart, you still there?”  
“Uh, ya.” Sam would probably call back. The boys were probably fighting and they just needed to vent.  
“Good so, how about you meet me in Joplin tomorrow around lunch. You bring the whiskey, and I’ll bring the condoms.”  
If you had been taking a sip of the water on your nightstand, you’d have done a spit take.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“Don’t be cheap either. I wiped the floor with a couple guys tonight. I’m flush. I’ll pay you back. See you soon, Y/N.”  
The phone flashed ‘Call Ended.’ You found yourself muttering as you got up to search for the phone charger that had come unplugged. Dean might have joked and flirted with you over the years, but there had never been such blatant innuendos made. Maybe he had had a few too many tonight. You debated about calling Sam back but figured it could wait until morning. His call earlier had probably been to warn you that Dean was in a mood. Once you had taken a couple swigs of your leftover iced coffee, probably regrettably, you crawled back in to your lumpy bed, trying to shake off the uneasiness that call had left you with.

The next morning you woke feeling surprisingly well-rested. Talking to Dean always gave you a little extra comfort, though the longer you wallowed in the scratchy sheets, the more you wondered about Dean’s remarks the night before. After packing the rest of your things and grabbing a surprisingly not-terrible muffin and coffee at the motel’s ‘lounge,’ you pointed your Jeep north. You shaved about 20 minutes off your GPS’s arrival time as you neared the Kansas border. You were merging in to traffic headed toward Tulsa before you remembered your conversation with Dean. He said to meet him in Joplin. Weird. Once you were back up to cruising speed and traffic had thinned out, you dialed Sam up, figuring Dean would be a bit hungover from the night before.  
“Hey Y/N/N, what took you so long to call me back?” Sam sounded irritated.  
“I didn’t know it was urgent. I talked to Dean last night, figured he’d let you know what’s up.”  
“You what- when- where are you right now, Y/N?”  
“Chill Sam. Use your words.”  
“Seriously, for your sake and mine, where are you?”  
“I’m on my way to the bunker. Left Little Rock first thing this morning. Why would Dean want me to meet him in Joplin?”  
“He’s in Joplin?”  
“I guess. What’s going on? You guys are being weird.”  
“Listen, I need you to not come to the bunker. And definitely don’t head to Joplin. And don’t answer any more calls form my brother.”  
“Sam you’re really freaking me out right now.”  
“It’s a long story and I have to move on this info. Did you make any arrangements with him about where you’re meeting?”  
“No. Just that I’d be there around lunch time.”  
“Good. That’s good. I’m going to e-mail you some instructions. Do exactly as I say, please. Keep me posted if Dean contacts you. There’s a safe house we have in Lawrence. I’ll text you the address and security code. Get there as quick as you can, Y/N. I mean it.”  
Sam’s little monologue had you totally freaked out. Something big was happening, and as per usual two of your favorite people seemed to be smack in the middle of it. 

Walking in to the tiny house in Lawrence felt more than strange. It was in a middle-class neighborhood full of families with kids. You couldn’t help but wonder what the neighbors thought of this place. There was a layer of dust over almost everything, but upon inspection the electricity worked and there was hot water. You carried in your laptop and the lunch you had got at some overpriced drive-thru. You had to admit that the sandwich was good but the coffee was not the best. You settled in to the couch with a movie you had seen a million times before, stretching the car ride out of your muscles. You were just comfortable when Sam’s picture popped up on your phone.  
“Hey, Sam, care to fill me in on just what crazy crap you guys are tangled up in right now?”  
“No. Not really. Listen, I know you just rolled in to Lawrence but any chance you could make yourself scarce. As in get out of the Midwest for a while?”  
“Seriously, Sam,” you started, then heard Dean’s muffled voice growling at Sam to take the cuffs off.  
“Wait, is that you brother. Why is he cuffed?”  
“Um, it’s like I said, long story,” Sam tried to weasel his way out of an explanation.  
“Sam what is going on? I talked to Dean last night. Then you tell me I need to get to Kansas, and now I need to get out of Kansas? I’m getting some seriously mixed signals.”  
“I know, Y/N/N. Can you just trust me on this?”  
“Sam you’re the closest thing to family I have. I would really like to be in the loop here.”  
“Okay, give me three days, then head to the bunker. And bring some holy water just in case.”  
“Holy wa-,” the line went dead before you could finish your question.  
You trusted the Winchesters with your life so you decided you could stay put for a couple days. You spent the rest of the evening washing sheets and towels and all of your clothes. (Only half-charmed by the fact that there was a washer and dryer and your favorite fabric softener stashed in a small laundry room.)  
You spent your second day checking in with contacts and following up on a couple leads you had. Turned out the werewolves you thought might be partying in Michigan were actual wolves that some local had over exaggerated. You passed on wind of a coven near Boston to your friend Katie. Forwarded some reports of what you thought might be actual Selkies in the San Francisco Bay area. Your job was really freaking weird sometimes.  
By lunchtime on day three you were pretty much bored out of your skull. Everything you had in your possession was cleaned, polished, sharpened, oiled and any other adjective you could come up with. Seriously, even your boots had gotten a nice rub down with some extra gun oil. You figured you had given your favorite brothers time to sort out the mess they were in, or at least make a good start. You decided to give Dean a call, see if he would be a little more forthcoming with details than his younger counterpart. Three numbers and no answers later, you couldn’t help but be a little irritated.  
Sam picked up on the fourth ring. He sounded exhausted. “Hey. What’s up?”  
“Don’t what’s up me Samuel Toronto Winchester.”  
“Toronto?”  
“I can never remember. And don’t distract me. I am about five seconds from hopping on the freeway and busting down the door of your Batcave. What is going on?!”  
“Dean died.”  
Your knees gave out and you sank against the kitchen counter. “He’s gone……and you didn’t call me?”  
“I said he died. I didn’t say he’s dead.”  
“It’s a good thing I’ve known you for a damn long time Sam or I would think you’ve lost it. Explain.”  
“He died. Became a demon. Knight of Hell actually. I’ve been trying to track him down for a while now.”  
“That is…still not enough information. Why do you have me on lockdown in Apple Pie Land?”  
“I was just trying to keep you safe Y/N. Dean has been sleeping and slicing his way through the Plains like it’s his job. I didn’t know how he would react if he caught up with you.”  
“So now what Sam?”  
“I got him back to the Bunker, started him on what we think was a demon cure. He seems to be back to himself, for the most part. I would feel better if you stayed in Lawrence a couple more days.”  
“Sam I’m going nuts here. How about I take a couple days and check some drop boxes I’ve got that aren’t too far. Could I head to the bunker say, middle of next week?”  
“I think that’s doable. Just know that Dean’s really shaken up by this whole thing. He knows he did a lot of shady stuff while he was dark. I don’t know if he’ll be up to company, but you’re always welcome here, you know that.”  
“Okay, well. Let me know if anything changes. I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll bring you a case of that beer you like from Texas.”  
“Bye Y/N. Be safe.”

You spent the next few days being true to your word. You logged way too many interstate miles. Checked every mailbox you had, even one the Winchesters had given you the key to that was kind of out of your way. For some reason it was stuffed full with some cooking magazine, with Y/N Winchester as the subscription holder. You stopped by a couple surplus stores and loaded up on water and non-perishables. You even got a couple packs of t-shirts and socks for your two favorite fellas. Theirs always seemed to be one step away from growing ‘stuff.’  
By Tuesday you had circled back around to Lebanon. You dropped in at a cute little bakery the boys favored. Pie for Dean and a mix of cookies that Sam would pretend weren’t on his diet but wouldn’t last two days. You got a few sandwich rolls and a tub of chicken salad that was made there, too. At least you wouldn’t starve at the ultimate bachelor pad. You figured you ought to let the boys know you were incoming.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey Sam. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be there soon. Got an empty spot in that awesome garage I can park?”  
“Sure thing.” He paused like he was getting ready to tell you your puppy died while you were at summer camp. “Just, don’t be surprised if Dean is a little, weird, I guess. He’s been drinking already today and seems to be a real Debbie Downer pretty much all the time. I don’t know what to do with him. Or for him. Just, I know he wouldn’t want you to get here and think it’s your fault he’s depressed or whatever.”  
You couldn’t help smiling a little. “Of course not, Sam. I’ll just have to kick his ass a little. Open the garage door for me, I’ll be there in five.”

Sam helped you get your Jeep unpacked and your things settled in to the room you had claimed dibs on. And someone had washed your sheets, it smelled pretty good in your room, actually. Sam almost ran you over as you stepped into the hall to head for the shower. The Men of Letters water pressure was to die for and you were convinced that the water heater was enchanted somehow.  
“Sorry, Y/N. Hey, listen,” Sam tucked his hair behind his ear, a move you knew was a nervous tic of his. “Would you feel okay here with Dean by yourself? I haven’t left in days just trying to keep an eye on him. I need some fresh air and I don’t even know. Just a break I guess.”  
“What are best friends for Sam. I was going to shower real quick. Any chance you guys have some frozen pizzas stashed in one of those enormous freezers?”  
Sam couldn’t seem to stifle a grin at you expense, while he swept you into a big hug. He was your second favorite person to hug in the whole world. “I hope you never change, Y/N/N. Pizza’s on the bottom shelf. Call me if something comes up.” He kissed the side of your head and walked off.  
You decided to kill two birds with one stone and throw the pizza in while you showered. You cranked the oven, tossed the pizza in and headed down the hall, fiddling with your phone to set a timer. You shrieked when you hit something solid.  
“Hey sweetheart, sorry I scared you.”  
You breathed out his name. “Dean, hey. I wondered if you were hiding from me.” You couldn’t help but tug the lapels of the robe you had on self-consciously.  
“Why would I hide from you? You’re my best girl. I mean best girl friend.” He hiccupped. “Ha, I mean best friend who is a girl.”  
You couldn’t help but wonder if the blush on his cheeks was because of the slip-up or the whiskey you could smell on his breath. “Right. Anyway. I have a pizza in the oven and was heading to shower. And I’m down to like,” you glanced at your phone, “seven minutes. You want to share?” Then your own nerves kicked in. “I meant share the pizza, not the um, the shower thing.”  
Dean gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. Almost disappointed. “How about you shower, I’ll set us up pizza and whatever in the Dean cave.”  
“The what?”  
“The Dean Cave™. Three doors down from your room. You’ll love it.”

Showered and feeling the most relaxed since leaving Little Rock, you followed your nose to the Dean Cave. When you stepped through the door you couldn’t help but giggle. “You weren’t kidding, were you? This is…perfect for you, De. You pulled out all the stops, huh.” You could tell he was trying not to be too proud of himself, but the big grin he was wearing gave it away. It was one of your favorite smiles in the whole world. He had plates and glasses on a small table between two enormous recliners. Pizza, beer and the pie you thought you had smuggled in were on a side table. You couldn’t help your own smile, while you fixed a plate and got comfy in a big chair. “Mind if I play some music?”  
“As long as it’s not the crap you play in your car.”  
“What other music is there?” you joked. You liked a lot of stuff, but the country music you had been bombarded with over the last week was getting old. “I made a cool mix. You’ll know some of these songs, they came out when you were in high school.”  
“Oh, jeez, the nineties, really. I thought you had better taste than that.”  
“Hey punk, there was some good stuff. I didn’t say you had to dance or anything. Just some background music.”  
“Fine. Tell me about what you’ve been up to”

You spent the next hour regaling Dean with some of the more interesting things you had been up to since your last Bunker visit. “And that is pretty much everything since we worked that weird mummy case in Vegas.” You adjusted your legs and missed Dean tensing up. “So, am I allowed to ask about you? Or are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room, De?”  
Dean tried to glare at you like he wanted to cut this conversation short. You really were one of his favorite people, and he didn’t want to let you down with tales of Demon Dean. “I’m sure Sam gave you the highlights.” He rubbed his hand across his neck, his version of the Winchester tic. You realized he was refusing to meet your eyes.  
“I was just. Checking in with you, I guess. Sam said you’ve been, um. Been drinking. More than usual. And the only reason you’re eating with me is because I asked. You would have liked to tap out already.”  
“Y/N I love hanging out with you. It’s just. It sounds stupid, but I guess I’m just trying to find a way to atone for my actions. His actions. I don’t know. I did a lot of stupid, horrible things. Nothing I’m proud of. I practically called you up for a booty call. That probably wouldn’t have ended well for you. Guess I couldn’t keep you off my mind even when I was a demon.”  
You watched Dean all through his self-deprecating speech. He looked at the hole in the knee of his jeans the entire time. When he finally did glance up, you couldn’t stop yourself, you mouthed along with the song that had started playing “And I don't think I have ever seen a soul so in despair.” That seemed to break something in him, and you noticed the tears start rolling down his cheeks. You reached out to grab his hand, calluses snagging. “You don’t know the half of it sweetheart.”  
You tugged on his hand and he sunk to his knees in front of you. He hugged around your waist and you used the edge of your shirt to wipe up some of his tears. You leaned down, tucking his head under your chin. “Actually, I do know the half of it. And in case you didn’t notice I keep coming back.”  
“Well, then I guess the other line in that song is about me too.” You leaned back into your seat, giving him a questioning look. “Wrong guy, wrong situation.”  
“Ya, no. You are definitely the right guy,” you glanced away shyly, “for someone.”  
You felt Dean’s hands slide down your thighs. “I doubt that, sweetheart.”  
You took a deep breath and met his eyes. They were watery and red-rimmed, but always a spectacular jade. “You are the other, other guy De. The songs about having someone you can count on.” It was his turn to look away. You grabbed his chin, spinning his face around. “When the engine’s stalled and it won’t stop raining…you are always my first call. When I get a huge win. Or have to lick my wounds. You’ve got my back.” You hoped the smile you gave him wasn’t giving too much away.  
“Y/N, I am no good for someone as great as you. I literally called you two weeks ago, because I was a demon. He wanted to sink his teeth into you. And not the fun way.” Dean wiped his eyes, with the back of his hand. “What would I have done, then?”  
“Well, we were gonna have booze and condoms. Think I know what we would have been doing.” You seemed to have the bad habit of putting your foot in your mouth around Dean. You leaned over to kiss the top of Dean’s head, trying to make a hasty escape. “See you in the morning, De.”

Dean spent a couple minutes on the floor trying to make sense of your conversation. He worked at gathering up the mess the two of you had made, realizing you hadn’t touched the pie. He always seemed to get distracted when you were around. As he stashed the last of the trash in the bin, he tripped across something rather dazedly. You had agreed to meet him, well the demon version of him, with the intention of hooking up. Maybe you thought he had just been messing around. Huh.

You were just starting to drift off in the awesome mattress you discovered had been replaced since your last visit, when a timid knock caught your attention. You shifted up in the bed, making sure your lack of pants wasn’t obvious, and called, “Come in.”  
Dean’s shadow appeared in your doorway, and you squinted to actually see his features in the dim light.  
“You were going to meet me in Joplin. Why didn’t you question it?”  
“I figured you needed back up on a case or something.”  
“You didn’t question the condoms. Then or tonight. Why?”  
You could feel yourself flush at the insinuation. “I just figured you were screwing around. You make jokes with me all the time.”  
“Not about having sex with you.”  
“Well, I know. But other jokes. Flirty things when we go out to a bar. Or things you find online and send me.”  
“But I don’t joke about having sex, not with you.”  
You weren’t sure what the big deal was. And Dean’s face was still in shadow. “Sorry, I guess. I shouldn’t have joked about it either, won’t happen again,” you apologized.  
While you were talking Dean closed the door behind him, plunging you into all but blackness. The bed dipped near your knees, and you suppressed a squeak of surprise. As your eyes adjusted to the near pitch dark, you could see Dean’s shoulders sagging. “Hey,” you nudged him with your leg, hoping he could see your smile, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I just thought, you know, we joke and kid around and if I crossed a line, I will definitely try to avoid that kind of joke in the future.”  
Dean found your hand that was tucked in to your lap. Leave it to him to have cat-like night vision. “I, uh.” Dean cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the bed, squeezing your hand just a little. “I’m not mad, it’s just.” Another cough, and you thought you heard him mumble ‘get it together, man.’  
“De, can I turn the light on. Or you turn the light on. I’m just in a t-shirt here.” The light clicked on and your eyes adjusted as Dean sat back down. You grabbed his hand back, loving that little bit of contact. “It’s just you and me here. What’s got you all tongue-tied?”  
Dean took another breath. “Sex with you will never be something I joke about, because I can’t possibly imagine anything more serious in my life. I mean. You are so beautiful. And perfect and just thinking about and knowing it would never happen makes it too hard to joke about.”  
You were sure he got that out in one exhale. Your buzz from earlier seemed to wear off quite quickly. You made sure Dean was looking you in the eye when you replied, “It would never be a joke to me. It would be, what’s the word?” You hoped Dean was reading your expression loud and clear. “Kind of a dream come true.”  
Dean continued to stare at you, like he couldn’t believe his ears. “I….What?”  
“I said that would be a dream come true for me. Why do you think I keep coming back around, De? It’s not for the beautiful balcony view. Or the great eats. It’s because it’s where you are.” You tugged on the hand you were still holding bringing Dean’s mouth within inches of your own. “Kiss me, please, tell me I didn’t read this wrong.”  
Dean leaned in and between wet presses of his beautiful mouth gasped, “Read it….totally….right….I’m an idiot….god you’re gorgeous….taste so good….”


End file.
